Page 59 of Grief and Grievances
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” she said quietly, her eyes meeting his with a vulnerability he had never before witnessed in the fiercely independent woman. “Your concern means more than I can say.”
As they stood there, their gazes locked in an unspoken exchange of support and understanding, Darcy found himself torn between gratitude for Elizabeth’s safety and the burning desire for retribution against Wickham. The man had caused enough harm to both their families, and this latest transgression was unforgivable. Yet, as he looked into Elizabeth’s eyes, he knew that his first priority must be to ensure her well-being—both physical and emotional. He could not allow his fury to emerge, lest it further distress the woman he loved so dearly.
“Elizabeth,” he began, his voice steady and composed despite the violent storm brewing within him, “you need not fear Wickham any longer. I promise you, he shall never come near you or your family again.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” she replied softly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I confess, I never knew true fear until today in the woods. Your assurance is a great relief to me.”
With each word exchanged, Darcy’s resolve hardened. How dare Wickham violate the sanctity of Elizabeth’s life, bringing such terror upon her? The man was a scourge, a blight that must be eradicated from their lives once and for all.
“Are you certain you are well?” he asked gently, his concern for her evident in the furrow of his brow as he examined her pale visage. “If there is anything I can do to ease your burden, please do not hesitate to ask.”
“Your presence alone is solace enough, sir,” she assured him, bestowing a wan smile upon him which, though lacking its usual vivacity, warmed his heart nonetheless.
Internally, Darcy fumed, devising plans to ensure Wickham would never again darken their doorsteps. Each scheme that crossed his mind seemed insufficient, for how could mere punishment ever truly balance the scales against such reprehensible conduct?
“Enough!” Darcy burst out, unable to contain his fury any longer. “I cannot stand idly by while Wickham remains a threat to your safety and happiness. I shall call him out for what he has done, and I shall shoot him dead for daring to harm you!”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened in shock at this sudden declaration. “Mr. Darcy, please,” she implored, placing a trembling hand on his arm, “do not let your emotions cloud your judgement. What you propose is rash and dangerous, and if you were to kill Wickham, it would bring nothing but ruin upon us all.”
He stared at her for a moment, searching her face for any trace of uncertainty. But he found none. Instead, he saw the determination and intelligence that so captivated him, and his resolve began to waver.
“Very well,” he agreed reluctantly, his hands relaxing at his sides. “You must leave the matter in my hands. It is not simply a matter of offering him enough money to leave, as I might have done in other circumstances. His responsibilities with the militia cannot be merely abandoned, but I will speak with Colonel Forster and see what can be done about having Wickham assigned somewhere else, far away from here. They are due to leave for Brighton within days; perhaps Forster can send Wickham on ahead, and ensure that he never returns to Meryton.”
“That seems a very good plan, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said with obvious relief. “And I, and my sisters, will not stir outside Longbourn’s walls until he is confirmed to be gone from Hertfordshire.”
Darcy nodded with approval. He never wanted to see that fear lingering in Elizabeth’s eyes again, but of one thing he was grateful; that it was to him she had turned for comfort and help.
“Elizabeth,” he began, his voice steady despite the emotions raging within him. “I wished to ask you if you have had time to consider my offer of marriage. I assure you, my feelings are unchanged since last we spoke on the topic.”
“Mr. Darcy,” she replied softly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You have acted with such kindness and generosity toward my family and me, even when faced with considerable adversity. I cannot deny that my own sentiments have altered greatly since our last conversation, and I would be honoured to become your wife.”
“Then you accept?” Darcy asked, scarcely daring to believe his ears.
“Indeed, I do,” Elizabeth confirmed, a radiant smile lighting up her face.
“Thank you,” he whispered, overwhelmed by a rush of emotion. Taking her hands in his, he bent his head and kissed them, gazing into her eyes. “May I speak with your father?”
“Indeed; let us go to him together. I think he may have some inkling of your affections; he has made a number of teasing remarks to me these last few days about your sudden fondness for Longbourn.” She gave him one of her arch smiles, and Darcy laughed.
“Your father is astute, and I fear I gave myself away without intending to. I hope he is not entirely averse to the idea?”
“Surprised, I think, but certainly not averse. He has already asked me if I know anything of Pemberley’s library.” Elizabeth giggled behind her hand.
“He will be welcome to explore it to his heart’s content,” Darcy promised, taking her hand in his and leading her towards her father’s study. “Since he is bestowing upon me Longbourn’s most precious treasure, I can hardly begrudge him some of Pemberley’s in return!”
Faced with Mr. Bennet’s stern expression, Darcy found himself stumbling over his words, at least until Elizabeth laughed and squeezed his hand.
“Father,” she chided, “stop glaring at him so, or he might withdraw, and that I could not bear.”
“You are spoiling my fun, Lizzy,” her father complained, his glance fond. “If young men are going to come along and steal my daughters, I must be allowed to have some sport with them. You are quite sure you want this one? I’m sure another one will be along soon enough if not, this is the second in a few months, after all…”
“Father!” Elizabeth laughed, going to kiss his grizzled cheek. “Do not speak of that!”
“Who else proposed to you?” Darcy asked, suddenly wondering if he should be jealous.
Cheeks stained pink, Elizabeth shook her head, but Mr. Bennet had no compunctions about revealing the truth. “That simpleton Collins,” he snorted. “As if my Lizzy would waste herself on such a fool!”
“Mr.Collins?“ Darcy mouthed, incredulous.
